


Band-Aids and Bullet Holes

by sashimiprince



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: (the one sided is near the very beginning of the story), Angst, Explicit Language, F/M, Major Original Character(s), Mutual Pining, One-Sided Attraction, Slow Burn, So much angst, Undercover, also the violence in this isnt that graphic i just wanted to make sure it was tagged, b99 - Freeform, b99 spoilers, brooklyn nine nine - Freeform, brooklyn nine nine spoilers, but be ready for a few f bombs, or at least im aiming for angst, the bad language probably wont be that often though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-06-17 09:53:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15458766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sashimiprince/pseuds/sashimiprince
Summary: When Jake's undercover mission is blown, the Nine-Nine must fight to free him from abduction. Jake is already struggling enough with the blown mission, torture, and all the annoying mafia members- not to even mention the fact about how he likes Amy Santiago. Yet, of course, she's still with her boyfriend Teddy.It seems as though it couldn't get any worse for Jake.(This fic takes place between the season one finale and the first episode of season two.)





	1. Chapter 1

“Although, the meatballs were a little dry.”

Jake smiled to himself, knowing that his friends from the nine-nine would bust down this operation in just a few seconds. He had been undercover with the mafia for six months- something that seemed like an eternity to Jake, but he would never confess that to anyone. His plan was to come back cool and suave, as though he was never gone. Like some of the real cool police officers.

Almost immediately, Jake hears the sounds of police sirens and loud shouting from almost every person in the room. He fights hard to keep his smile down, he needs to pretend as though he’s surprised the police are here. He just might need to go undercover again.

Before he can even see any policemen rush onto the scene, he feels his shirt being tugged tightly from behind him. He gags, hands reaching up towards his throat to loosen the collar. After a moment of the breath being knocked out of him, he turns around to see who did that to him. He sees Freddy Maliardi, hand balled up so tightly on the back of his shirt it’s turning white, and speed walking towards the bar.

“Freddy- what?” Jake barely manages to squeak out, before Freddy chucks him onto the ground. Once again, all the air inside of him was knocked out the second he hit the ground, leaving him to see stars.

_“Everyone, down! Get down!”_ He hears police officers scream, who have just rushed onto the scene. He can’t see any of his friends, which is one of the things he was most looking forward to on that night.

He slowly turns on his side to see Freddy frantically opening a small trap door near the base of the bar, almost unseeable. 

_How did you miss that?_ Jake thinks to himself. _You’re a detective, for God’s sake!_

He feels his shirt being tugged at so quickly he stops breathing- again. Before he can even react, or try to put up a fight, he feels his body fall quite a few feet and hit a cold, cement ground. His eyes closed from the impact, he reaches up to his neck to rip the shirt away from it. He quickly takes some breaths in, never before having to be thankful for being able to breathe.

He finally opens his eyes after a few seconds, seeing the face of Freddy Maliardi glaring at him from on top of a ladder, with a gun pointed directly at him, the other hand locking the top of the trap door.

_“You,”_ he growls out menacingly.

“You couldn’t have let me use the ladder?” Jake gasps out. “You really had to just chuck me in here?”

“You think this is the time for jokes?” Freddy says, stepping off the ladder but keeping the gun pointed towards him. “I know you’re the mole.”

“Sorry?” Jake asks, groaning while moving into a sitting up position. He reaches for the back of his head and immediately winces when he touches it- that’s probably given him a concussion. Or at the very least, a bruise for a few weeks.

“Dirty cops in my mafia,” he drags out. “Never should’ve trusted you. Never. You were always a pig, Peralta.” He steps closer, putting the gun only inches away from Jake’s forehead. Jake instinctively leans back, but makes no sudden movements.

“Freddy, my man! How could I be the mole? I could not be farther distanced from those pigs! Those bacon machines. The slop eating animals. The…” Jake pauses, trying to use humour to disarm the situation. “That’s it. That’s all the pig things I have,” he says, slightly shrugging. Freddy merely pushes the gun closer towards Jake.

“Please. You are the only cop in this entire mafia. Everyone here I’ve known for years. They’re all clean. Now, suddenly, a pig shows up in our ranks,” he says threateningly, getting down on his knees to be closer to Jake’s height. “And everything just goes to shit because all of your little friends show up.”

“We sang piano man together!”

“Like that matters!” he barks. “You _really_ think that would’ve tied the mafia together?”

Jake felt taken aback.

“...yes?”

Freddy ignores him. “I’m going to kill you right here, right now. And then I’m going to Barbados. Maybe kill some of your friends on the way, maybe not.”

“Wait, wait, no! Freddy, what can I do to get you to trust me?”

“Nothing,” he whispers. “I know your secret. Just give it up.”

Freddy stands up again and starts pacing around, finally putting the gun on the ground. Jake feels a weight taken off his shoulders from that not being pointed at him anymore.

“You locked us in a corner, you know.”

Freddy angrily turns around to Jake, who’s still struggling to be sitting up on the floor. “What?” he asks.

“We’re in a small room with police officers running around just right outside. They’ll just come in and catch us.”

Freddy laughs- which sounds much closer to a dogs bark than anything else. “Please. Just how stupid do you think the mafia is? This place is soundproof, Peralta.” He continues pacing. “And virtually undetectable from the outside. And once they realize this room even exists? I’ll be long gone. And so will you.”

“I’m coming to Barbados with you?” Jake asks cautiously. He only gets a glare in return. He can’t stop making jokes in perilous situations- it’s become a serious issue. 

 

“Why in the world are you going to kill me, though?” Jake pleads. “I don’t have anything to do with the NYPD. They fired me for no good reason!”

“Hmm,” is all Freddy responds with. After a few more paces, he speaks up again. “You really expect me to believe that one-layer story? That you just so happened to be fired? And then you coincidently go to a bar where the mafia’s presence is well known, so you blurt out how you got fired from the NYPD, and then mysteriously made friends with my boy Leo?”

Jake uses all of his willpower to stand up, seeing black spots in his vision as he gets to his feet. “I promise you, I’m the real deal.” There’s no way he’s going to break his character now. The nine-nine might have caught the rest of the mafia family- but Freddy was the big one. He wasn’t just going to let him get away.

“I don’t care that you’re keeping up this charade. It’s not going to fool me.” He once again starts pacing, looking at the floor, as though deep in thought as heavy, muffled footprints continued above them.

Jake took in his surroundings. He was only a few feet from Freddy, who currently wasn't facing him. He had picked up his gun again when Jake was standing up, and was now pacing with it. Even though he was armed, Jake had the element of surprise with him. If he was able to charge him, he could take the gun back and escape with him unharmed. On the other hand, however, he was rocking a killer concussion. It’s probably not normal to feel like you’re going to throw up at all times.

He decided to go for it.

Sprinting (or at least a concussion version of sprinting) towards Freddy, he quickly aims a punch for his face but misses wildly, his body then leaning to the side and then stumbling. Freddy grabs his arm and then twists it behind his back, his mouth right next to Jake’s ear. “Don’t ever try a stunt like that again,” he growls, Jake sucking in air with the pain. He drops Jake onto the floor once again, but Jake catches himself, then stands himself back up again.

“Try that again and you’ll be shot.”

Jake dusted himself off, then turned towards Freddy and nodded.

“Listen,” Freddy says, crossing his arms. “Today is your lucky day, huh?”

“You literally threw me into a weird, grimy basement, gave me a concussion, and threatened me with a gun. So I wouldn’t say it’s the best day I’ve ever had.”

“I won’t kill you today, hmm?” Freddy says. Jake almost rolls his eyes. _‘Today’_. Like only being killed tomorrow would be a gift to him. “You’re going to help me get out of here.”

“What?” Jake asks incredulously. 

“You’re going to pretend like you cornered me in this little basement area. You’re going to pop up and talk with all your police friends without bringing any attention to yourself.”

“I’ve been gone for six months, I’m sure Charles running towards me and trying to bear-hug me will bring some attention to me.”

_“Just listen,”_ Freddy threatens. “You’ll take me into a cop car by yourself and bring me to an airport. You aren’t allowed to stop me. If you even try to, I’ll kill you and get my friends to kill some of your police friends.” He walks close to Jake, barely an inch away from his face. He can smell his breath that probably hasn’t been brushed in a week and his cologne, which seems like he bathes in every day.

“Which one means the most to you, huh? Because I’ll kill that one first,” he says quietly.

Only one name can pop into Jake’s mind.

_Amy Santiago._

“Ray Holt? Terry Jeffords? Rosa Diaz?”

Jake tries to keep his face neutral and not back down.

“Charles Boyle?”

No expression.

“Amy Santiago?”

Jake doesn’t quite know what happened. Maybe he blinked when he said that name, or his expression changed, or he unconsciously took a step backwards. Maybe his face turned whiter than usual. Either way, something happened to let Freddy know she was the one. He smiles, showing off all of his teeth like a lion about to pounce on prey.

“Amy, huh?” he grins. “You dating, or something? She’s a hot little piece.”

Jakes hands ball up so hard he can feel his fingernails digging into his skin, but he does nothing.

“I don’t know how a girl like that ended up with someone like… you.”

He backs off again, Jake coughing a little from his breath. He paces once again. “Try anything at all, and she might be the first to go,” he says. “Torture you with her death, then kill you too. I have no need for people who don’t follow my directions.”

He didn’t need to deal with this. He was a cop! And definitely the best one in the precinct. Captain Holt even said so by describing him as an ‘amazing detective slash genius.’

Freddy was probably more ready for his attacks, but Jake wasn’t just going to give up. He needed to fight to get out of here- his life, and the precincts lives, were on the line.

Once again, he brashly sprints for Freddy. He raises his fist and this time, actually socks him in the nose. The impact leaves Freddy yelling on the ground, holding his bleeding (and probably broken) nose. 

Jake, with almost no time to spare, runs up on top of the ladder and tried to open it. It’s shut with a lock Jake doesn’t know the combination too, so he resorts to yelling and banging on the door as loud as he can. He knows it’s soundproofed, but someone has to hear something- right?

This only goes on for a second or two before he hears a muffled sound and then an intense sharp pain in his side. He falls off of the ladder onto the ground, face up, clutching his stomach with his eyes shut from the pain. Hot, blistering pain shoots up from the area as he clutches his stomach. He opens his eyes to find blood covering his hands and shirt- along with a gunshot wound to his lower abdomen.

He groans in pain, curling up his body on instinct. He shuts his eyes again, tightly. He just needs to breathe deeply to get through this. It won’t kill him.  
Probably.

“What did I say about pulling stunts like that, Peralta?”

Jake peeks through his tightly shut eyes to see Freddy, with a broken nose and blood streaming down his face, pointing a gun at him.

“Jesus Christ, you even have one with a muffler?” Jake asks, annoyed, through groans and deep breathing.

“Don’t want anyone hearing anything, now do we?” Freddy sneers.

“Oh god, oh god…” Jake whines, kicking his legs and still holding onto his stomach. “Please take me to the hospital. Give me first aid. Anything- oh my god!” he yells, starting to black out from the pain and blood loss.

“Promise me you’ll drive me to the airport with no shenanigans.”

“If you don’t give me first aid that won’t happen, because guess what, Freddy, _I’ll be dead!_ ”

“Promise me.”

Jake clenches his teeth tightly, his mind preoccupied by the hole in his stomach, making it feel like his torso was on fire.

“Fine!” Jake said, half-truthfully, still trying to figure out a way to catch him before he kills him and Amy, but he was a little preoccupied by the pain.

He hears Freddy walk away, shimmy through some things (probably the box on the wall that was locked, too) and walk back over to Peralta. He senses him lean down over his body, so Jake quickly opens his eyes. “What are you doing?” he asks, scared he might try to shoot him again, or something else.

Freddy holds up one of those large band-aids and says nothing.

_“How is that going to help?”_

“It’ll stop the bleeding,” Freddy replies nonchalantly. Freddy grabs Jake’s bloody and hands lifts them up, almost fighting Jake off since every nerve in his being was telling him to hold onto the wound. 

Freddy lifts up Jake’s shirt, which stings a little from some dried blood, which causes Jake to wince. Freddy quickly applies the band-aid and stands back up, towering over Jake.

“Stand up.”

“A brother just got shot, Freddy!” Jake gasps out.

_“Stand. Up.”_

Jake painfully sits himself up and shakily comes to his feet. His hands come down to his gunshot wound, which isn’t bleeding anymore but still hurts like hell. Freddy hands him a bullet proof vest that says NYPD on the front of it.

Jake warily takes it, then looks over at the box affixed to the basement wall. It’s huge, and looks like it has a bunch of junk in it.

“How much stuff does that box have?”

“Just put it on. And take my gun.”

After struggling through putting on his bullet proof vest, he takes Freddy’s gun.

“Now you’re going to go out there and put on a show, and drive me to the airport. No stunts. Or else this time, you won’t just get shot in the stomach.”

Jake had no other option but to nod and go along with it. His life, among others, were in danger. And besides, they were all good detectives. They’d find him again- he’s sure of it.

He climbs up the ladder with lots of effort, and climbs out onto the main scene with blinding pain, but tries to conceal it. One arm holding Freddy’s gun, and the other holding onto Freddy himself, he climbs out onto the main scene. Looking around him, he sees that most everything has calmed down. It’s many police officers and a few mafia people in handcuffs.

Quickly, he tries to make his way outside of the building into a police car, but to no avail. He’s stopped by a voice behind him.  
“Peralta.”

He can’t help but smile a little at hearing that deep, monotone voice.

“Heeeyyyy Captain!” Jake says, turning around and faking a wide smile. “Wassup, my brotha? You miss me?”

“What happened to the plan we had established beforehand?” As always, Holt was not one to be caught up in pleasantries. “And where did you get that vest?”

Freddy beside him elbows him and quietly whispers, _‘I have a knife on me.’_

“Oh, you know, stuff happens,” Jake says, trying to come off as breezy as possible with a man who’s threatening to murder you and a gunshot wound in your chest, with the large bulletproof vest weighing down on it not helping at all. “Freddy here tried to run into that safe room down there, but I managed to catch him. A police officer got me the vest right before I jumped in. I’m bringing him into the police station now.”

“Well, I can certainly do that,” Holt says, still with no smile. “You probably want to have a little... _pow-wow_ with your friends, right? You haven’t seen them in six months.”

“No!” Jake says, a tad bit too fast which earned him a raised eyebrow from Captain Holt. “No, I mean… I can always catch up with them later. The first thing I wanna do it put a nasty criminal behind bars. Whoo!” he says, trying to pump his arm in the air, but his stomach stings badly and causes him to wince and put his arm back down.

“What’s wrong, Peralta?”

“Nothing. Nothing is ever wrong when I’m… spending time with you?” he asks cautiously, trying not to say anything that would get him, and maybe others, stabbed.

“Now it’s time to go. Bye, Holt!” he says quickly, trying to get out of there as soon as possible so he could get to a hospital soon. He walks away, limping, but Holt says nothing as he watches him walk off with Freddy.

They quickly get to a police car and hop in, Jake in the driver’s seat and Freddy sitting lazily in the front seat.

“Prisoners go in the back seat,” Jake says, starting the car, as Freddy scoffs. “Please, if anything you’re the prisoner right now.” Freddy grabs his gun that Jake had set down, and points it right at Jake’s temple.

“Now drive.”

“Okay, okay, sheesh.”

After a few minutes of driving- the pain in his side subtly subsiding and turning into more of an achy feeling, but his adrenaline running high from the gun pressed to his head- Freddy suddenly says, 

“Turn left here.”

“But the airport is straight from here.”

“I said turn left,” Freddy scowls, pressing the gun closer to Jake’s head. “I’m not afraid to kill you. I’ve gotten what I’ve want from you. So follow my directions if you and your precious Amy want to stay alive.”

Jake could feel the blood rushing in his veins for the next half hour as he followed Freddy’s directions. He’s not going to lie- he was terrified. They weren’t headed to the airport, and he had no idea what 

Freddy had in mind. For all he knew, he was just going to a mafia run landfill so he could be killed and discarded there easily.

“Stop!” Freddy yells when Jake drives by an old, discarded warehouse. “And get out. Leave the key in the ignition.”

Jake steps out of the car, holding his hands up as Freddy keeps pointing the gun at him. Freddy walks around the car, grabs his arm, and quickly walks him into the warehouse. He turns the lock on the door ( _What is it with this guy and old-school locks?_ Jake thinks to himself) and opens it to reveal a musty, incredibly empty area with one chair with straps in the middle.

Freddy yanks Jake towards the chair and shoves him into it.

“I could’ve sat myself down, you know,” Jake says.

Freddy does not respond, and straps Jake in so tightly it hurts his arms and legs.

“Don’t you think you could loosen me up a little, bud?”

“No,” Freddy replies, standing up and looming over him. “My friends will be here eventually. Have fun here. I’m going to Barbados.”

“Wait, you said I could get off scot free once I dropped you off at the airport!”

“Peralta, Peralta, Peralta…” Freddy says dismissively. “How naive are you? _Mafia members lie._ ” He opens the door to the warehouse. “Goodbye, Peralta. I’ll see you again… never, probably.” He shuts the door, and then he’s gone.

Jake looks around him and assesses the situation he’s in.

_Well, shit._

* * *

 

“Detectives. Briefing room. Now,” Holt barks as he walks into the precinct. Amy smiles at him sheepishly as he walks past her desk. 

“You look happy today, Captain!” she says in a chipper voice.

“Hmm,” is all he responds with as he continues towards the briefing room.

“He seemed happy, right?” Amy asks, turning to Terry.

“I don’t know,” he responds with a shrug. “If he was sad, I’m sure he would’ve disputed your point. So it’s possible he might be happy.”

Amy pumps her fist in the air. “Yes!” she whispers to herself. “I’m finally getting a read on him.”

“We can all hear you, Ames,” Gina says from across the room, texting on her phone with her feet up on her desk. “It’s honestly a little embarrassing.”

“Have any of you seen Jake?” Terry asks, before Amy can respond to Gina. “He’s incredibly late.”

Amy just rolls her eyes and sighs. “He’s always late. I’d honestly be surprised if he showed up early today.”

Charles turns his seat around to face Amy and Terry. “I don’t think so. We promised each other when he got back, we’d share a five minute hug. And since I didn’t see him in the bust, I figured he would’ve shown up early to see his best bud,” he says, patting his chest.

“He promised you a five minute hug?” Amy asks, confused.

“Well, I said we’d hug for five minutes and he didn’t argue about it. So I’d say it’s a promise,” Charles rebutes.

“Detectives, when I say now, _I mean now!_ ” Holt yells from the briefing room.

Everyone quickly stands up and sits themselves down in the briefing room. Gina, however, stays outside texting on her phone.

“Detectives,” Holt says in a monotone voice. “I have reason to believe Jacob Peralta has been taken hostage by the mafia.”

A shocked silence sweeps over the room. Then, suddenly-

“ _WHAT?_ ”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fyi... in this story jake never confessed to amy that he likes her. he's just been crushing hard on her this whole time. lol.

“He’s been kidnapped?” Amy yells, standing up so quickly her chair slams into the table behind her. She stands forward with both her hands on the table, angry and taken by surprise.

“Santiago, please sit down,” Holt says calmly.

 _“Sit down?”_ she says. “Captain, all due respect, but Jake is gone! How are we not supposed to panic?”

“Santiago.”

Amy sighs, then slowly sits herself down, her mind racing.

Jake was taken?

What happening to him right now? The mafia wasn’t well known for treating hostages nicely. For all she knows, Jake could be stranded somewhere, or dumped out to sea, being tortured, or even-

She didn’t want to go any farther with that train of thought.

“Here’s what we know,” Holt says, all eyes in the room on him. No one dared act out or say any jokes- even Hitchcock and Scully kept quiet. This matter was much too serious.

“Jake Peralta was at the mafia bust with their wedding. At that point, we believe that he was threatened by a certain Freddy Maliardi.” He switches the presentation to pictures of other mafia members. “We don’t know if any others are involved in this kidnapping.”

Amy quickly raises her hand. Holt nods at her.

“Sir, all of these mafia members are in custody. Where’s Freddy Maliardi?”

Holt sighs. “So far there have been no documented pictures of Maliardi. He seems to be elusive- either sending out his lackeys to do the job for him, or being smart enough to avoid cameras.” He turns back to the presentation. “However, I saw him first hand. It shouldn’t be difficult to catch him. I can just get a police artist to sketch what I remember.”

“Captain, I can help with that,” Terry speaks up from the back of the room. “I mean, it might take forever to get a sketch artist in here. And I know how to draw. This situation seems very time sensitive, so I can get it out as soon as possible.”

Captain Holt tilts his head, thinking about the offer. He then slightly smiles, but only for a moment. “We’ll do that right after the meeting.” He continues to flip through the power point.

“Freddy Maliardi and his gangs have been known to hang around old, run down buildings and factories. We’ll send in people to any of these places they’ve been seen. Hopefully there will be a sign of Peralta.”

“So it’s that easy? Just send people in and arrest this dude?” Rosa pipes up. Her eyebrows are burrowed, agitated by the news she’s just recieved. “Why aren’t we doing that right now? Jake could be moved to a different location at any time.”

“No, of course not,” Holt says. “Maliardi seems to smart. When we raided that wedding, he already had a plan for trapping Peralta. We must send people in undercover, pretend to be a part of the mafia, like what Jake did.”

“But Jake got caught,” Rosa says angrily. “What if another officer gets taken?”

“He won’t be expecting us to be so brash to send in another secret agent,” Holt replies. “So that’s the plan we’ll be doing, unless any of you think you have a better idea.”

The room stays silent with shifting gazes.

“Okay. So, Diaz, I was actually thinking you’d be the one to go undercover.”

Diaz looks up at him, confused, but not irritated. “What?”

“Well, you weren’t there the day of the bust, and you have little to no information about yourself, even to your family and friends.”

“Just the way I like it,” she says smiling.

“So, we figured the mafia would have no way of knowing you were a cop. And you look like you’re a criminal, so you’d fit right in.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Amy raises her hand once again. “Sir, I think I should be the one to go undercover.”

Holt shakes his head. “No. You’re too close to the mission.”

“What? Me and Rosa are both the same level of closeness.”

Holt looks at Amy, confused. “Sorry, I was lead to believe that you and Peralta were dating. Is that not true?”

A blush rises up in Amy’s face. “N-no, sir! Of course not! I’ve never- me and Jake- I’m dating Teddy!”

Holt merely shrugs. “That’s my fault. But either way, Diaz will be the one going undercover. You wouldn’t blend in that well. Now, to continue on...”

Amy shrinks in her seat. Not knowing what’s going on from the inside with Jake is going to kill her.

* * *

Jake had sat in that chair for what seemed like an eternity.

Dozing off in between flare ups of burning pain in his side wasn’t one of his favorite ways to spend an afternoon. Or now, night. There’s a few small windows in the factory he’s in so he was able to estimate what time it was. As of now, he had no idea, since all he could see in the factory and outside was pitch blackness.

All he could think of was Amy Santiago.

He didn’t care she was dating Teddy. He didn’t care that she may not like him back, or that it could ruin their relationship if he ever tried to ask her out.

He liked her. He really did.

Not that he would ever mention it to anyone, but he always thought of him and Amy ending up together, no matter what. No matter how many people they date, or the hard core crushing that seems to never be reciprocated, or even the awkwardness of their first hypothetical dates- he always felt, deep in his heart, that Amy was the one he would end up with.

He could see their wedding (preferably on top of Fox Plaza in La, aka Nakatomi Plaza, but anywhere was fine with him), their first house, and their children (Hurricane and McClane, but he’d probably have to check with Amy beforehand).

Thinking of Amy was how he spent most of the time trapped in that chair. Along with their future together. If she wouldn’t accept Hurricane or McClane for baby names… he always really liked the name Ella for a daughter.

While thinking of his fictional daughter Ella Nakatomi Peralta (still would have to check with Amy on that middle name) and how he thinks she’d look like the spitting image of Amy, he heard people fiddle with the lock on the door. Heart beating in his chest, adrenaline rushing, he expected to see the friendly faces of the nine-nine open that door and free him from that chair.

Alas, that’s not what happened.

A ragtag group of three people walked into the, each of them terrifying and looking like they could end Jake’s life at any moment, but that probably had to do with the fact he thought they were from the mob.

There was a short, stout white guy with tattoos covering his entire body. He was bald but with a large, light brown bushy beard. He was wearing a black t-shirt with a metal band he had never heard of before, and so many piercings he could barely even see his ears anymore.

Next to him, there was a tall black guy who seemed to be the one messing with the lock on the door. He was clean shaven and had a face that made him look seventeen.

The last one was a tall asian girl, but the height was probably due to her boots. They had a sole of almost two inches, along with heels. She was wearing shiny, black leather pants along with a black t-shirt and a leather jacket that was torn up in more places than he could count. Her black hair with a sole white streak was cut into a long bob, divided right at the middle. She was blowing bubblegum. If Jake couldn’t see her head, he’d think it was Rosa.

“Hey… guys! What’s up? Here to kill me? Hopefully not!” Jake chuckles, trying to get them to say something so he could figure out the situation with them.

“She probably won’t kill you immediately,” the white guy says, pointing at the girl. She blows another bubble and pops it loudly.

“Ah. I gotcha. She’s the bruiser. She’s barely even terrifying! Not even a little bit. At all,” Jake says, his voice going up a few octaves with the obvious lie, along with the fact that she had started walking towards him. She wasn’t even doing anything threatening, but her walk intimidated him. Might’ve been her extremely good posture. Or her glaring.

“Shut up. Now.” The girl had a raspy voice, actually kind of like Rosa’s but a little higher pitched. “I’m tired of your squabbling.”

“I barely even-”

“What did I just say?” she says, lowering her voice into a harsh whisper. She whips around to the two other guys still standing by the door. “Archie. Ronan. Go. I got him,” she says, turning back around to face Jake.

“You don’t need us to watch the factory?” the white one says.

“Arch, I think I’ll survive,” she says, addressing him. _That probably means the other one is Ronan,_ Jake thinks, along with _rad name._ “The police have no idea where he is. It’s not like their going to come busting in here at any moment.”

“Boss told us to watch the perimeter of the factory all night,” Ronan says. The girl rolls her eyes far into the back of her head. “Christ! Fine! Guard the outside. Nothing’s going to be there, though.”

Ronan and Archie snicker as they close the door behind them. “Have fun with the Dagger!” Archie says before leaving.

“The Dagger?” Jake says under his breath. _Why don’t I ever get a cool nickname like that?_ is the only thing he can help to think.

“Listen to me closely,” she says, kneeling down to Jake’s height. “I can and will hurt you with no remorse if you act out or try to escape.”

“I already have a bullet hole in me,” Jake says, and is quickly decked in the face by the girl, her expression still unreadable. She then tightly holds the collar of her leather jacket.

“I’m sorry I had to do that,” she says softly.

“What?” Jake responds, confused, but she puts a finger up to his mouth in an attempt to keep him quiet.

“My name is Leia Saito. I’m an undercover agent. And I’m going to get you out of here.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it's been a little while, lol. idk how soon i'll be updating. i dont have a schedule or anything. sorry. :/
> 
> also this chapter is rather short ish, just letting you all know

Jake looks at the Dagger- or rather, Leia Saito, with wide eyes.

_“What?”_

“Listen. I don’t have a lot of time to speak, okay?” she said in a low voice. “I’m holding onto my mic so Freddy can’t hear. But if I’m silent for too long, he’ll get suspicious.”

“What exactly is he trying to hear?” Jake says, but gets cut off rather quickly when Leia quickly stands up and extends her arm, swiftly striking him across the face. He gasps quickly, face stinging from the pain.

 _“You goddamn motherfucker,”_ Leia hisses after the slap, but loud enough for the microphone to pick up on.

“Jesus, can you _please_ stop hurting me?” he whispers out hoarsely. Leia kneels down to his height again, smiling softly and holding her collar again.

“Trust me when I say how sorry I am.”

“That bitch slap didn’t feel sorry, _Leia!”_ Jake yelled hushedly, when he quickly gets shushed by Leia, who has a worried look on her face.

“Don’t yell near the microphone!” she hisses softly. “He might hear that! And don’t call me Leia. Do you really have no common sense?”

“Okay, _the Dagger-”_ Jake starts sarcastically, before Leia once again stands up, microphone uncovered, and kicks him straight in the stomach.

Jake doubles over as Leia yells, “That’s what you get for thinking you can double cross Freddy Maliardi.”

He’s starting to see stars again. A hot, burning sensation flares up again near where he was shot. Gasping, struggling to maintain consciousness, he sees black spots start to creep into his vision. He tries leaning back in his chair and slow down his breathing, but the ever-pulsating pain in his side just won’t go away.

“Jesus Christ!” he says through clenched teeth. “Do you really have to do it that hard?” Jake says through jagged breaths.

“Look,” Leia says, a little angrier now, “I get it that you’re hurting. But you can’t keep getting mad at me!”

“You are literally the one who kicked me where I just got shot!”

 _“Because it’s my job!”_ Leia yells, glaring at Jake for a few seconds. Her eyes widen, realizing she said that really loudly, and brings her voice down to a whisper. “I am trying so hard to get you out of here. Do not take this personally,” she warns.

“It seems pretty personal to me! You know, kicking, punching, slapping me. And probably much worse! Probably gonna find out why you’re called the Dagger!” Jake says mockingly.

“Do you want to live or not, Jake?”

Jake goes dead silent. His eyes wander to her feet, not wanting to make direct eye contact with her. He knows she has to do this to keep her cover- he just hates the world that he’s in this situation in the first place.

“That’s what I thought,” she says, then kicking his shin hard again that causes Jake to yelp and shut his eyes, but it doesn’t hurt nearly as much as the kick to the stomach. After a few seconds of heavy breathing, Jake opens his eyes to look at Leia.

“You can’t fake the sound or anything?” Jake gasps. “Like, slap your hands together and then I just gasp? How about that, huh? I think it’s a pretty solid idea.”

Leia’s eyes widen for a moment, then she returns to her steely gaze. “No. It wouldn’t sound authentic. He was ways of knowing.”

“Man, Freddy knows just about everything, huh?” he chuckles to himself, but not finding it funny whatsoever.

“I’m going to get you back to your girl.”

Jake stops, looking at the floor with his mind racing. His girl? Is she talking about Amy? He looks up at Leia.

“Sorry, what?”

“You know what I mean.”

“How do you know about Amy?” he says, after pausing and staring at her with a confused expression. “I never mentioned anything about her,” he says softly.

“Well…” Leia hesitates. “You just seem like the type to have a girlfriend.”

“Yeah, no…” Jake says. “Not really. There’s this guy, and-”

“Look, as much as I’d love to listen to your little sob story, or whatever,” Leia says bluntly, standing up and crossing one arm across her chest, the other still tightly on her microphone, “You probably shouldn’t get too close to me. It’ll be weird if Freddy accidently sees us being friendly.”

“You won’t even let me complain about my problems in this place?”

“No, Jake,” she sighs, shaking her head. “I won’t. Because the second Freddy realizes I’m a double agent because of your stupidity and unwillingness to cooperate, it’ll be both our heads.” She leans down again, but this time not in a comforting way. “This is so much more serious than you can comprehend. He’ll take my life _and_ yours.” She leans in closer to his face. “Do you understand me?” she says slowly and threateningly.

He looks at her in the eyes, deflating slightly. “Yes,” he says quietly. “Fine.”

Both hear a jangling from the factory door again. Leia quickly whips her head around to look, and Jake can’t help but hope that once again, his police friends are here to save him.

Ready to see the Nine-Nine bust through the door, he’s disappointed to see Archie and Ronan re-enter the room.

“What are you doing here?” Leia asks in a deeper, scarier voice, putting on the mafia charade again.

“Freddy contacted us and we told him you were left alone with him,” Ronan says bluntly. “He asked us where we were and we said we were outside. He told us to come back in so that we don’t draw any attention to ourselves.”

“Which, I dunno, I think makes sense,” Archie says shrugging as Ronan closes the door, sending a loud echo through the empty factory.

“God! Jesus- alright.” Leia groans angrily, standing up and putting her hand to her forehead. “Whatever. Just… hang out here then, I guess.”

“Can we watch you torture this dude?” Archie asks, rather giddily for Jake’s taste.

“No,” Leia says sternly. “He’s had enough.”

“It’s only been about fifteen minutes,” Ronan pipes up.

 _“I said what I said,”_ Leia hisses, glaring at the two of them.

They both go silent for a few seconds, nervously looking at each other.

“Did you cut him?” Archie asks.

Leia rolls her eyes. “No. I didn’t. I still have to save some of the worst stuff, you know?”

Jake gulps. He now knows that even with Leia’s undercover identity, she will probably still have to cut him to keep up her image.

“Lame,” Archie finishes, sitting down against the wall.

Ronan follows suit. “Freddy should be here within the next 24 hours to pick him up.”

“What?” Leia and Jake both ask.

“Freddy wants him constantly moved around,” Ronan says. “He doesn’t want any of those cops picking up his scent, you know?”

Leia looks at Jake nervously, then back to Ronan and Archie.

“Alright. I guess we’ll have to wait then.”

Jake leans his head against the back of his chair he’s tied up to, sighing. Moving around from location to location, getting semi-tortured by an undercover cop, this couldn’t be the rest of his life.

Could it?


	4. Chapter 4

Amy couldn’t think.

She sat at her desk, cracking her knuckles over and over again and shaking her leg so fast she could’ve powered up the building.

Every time she tried to focus on the work in front of her it went blurry. She just couldn’t focus. All she could do was look at the desk beside of her and notice just how empty it was.

“Did you finish those reports?” a voice pipes up in front of Amy. She nearly jumps out of her skin, then breathes a sigh of relief when she sees it’s only Terry. She puts her hand on her heart, trying to calm herself down, as Terry gives her an odd look.

“You alright, Santiago?” he asks, worry on his face. Amy shrugs, trying to play it off.

“Oh, you know. I’m cool. Super cool. Ice chill. Everything is all… good in the hood.” She makes odd hand motions to try to make herself look more natural, but it does quite the opposite. The other people in the office give her odd once-overs.

“Alright,” Terry says, thoroughly unconvinced. “Did you finish those reports?”

Amy sighs and leans back in her chair, hands on her face. “No!” she whines. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry. I just couldn’t focus on them. I’ll get them done.” She peels her hands down face, peeking out to look at 

Terry. Expecting a look of disappointment, she’s surprised to see a look of sympathy. She takes her hands completely off her face, looking up at Terry.

“Amy Santiago couldn’t focus on her work?” he asks, trying to lightly joke with her. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Amy stands up quickly, hands on her desk. “Yeah. I’m fine. I have to go now,” she says nervously, and basically sprints to the bathroom. Terry’s confused look follows her, along with mostly everyone else in the office.

She bursts into the woman’s bathroom and kneels down, taking the vent off of the wall and getting her secret stash. She feels bad, and she knows she should stop, but she just can’t. Especially not in a situation like this.

The wall she leans against is freezing cold, but lighting her cigarette makes her feel a little warmer. She breathes out the smoke, feeling gross, but feeling so much better at the same time. It takes her mind off of the Jake situation.

Well, it did for a little while. Now she’s thinking about it again.

She takes another drag of her cigarette, praying to stop thinking about whatever situation Jake’s in, and she hears a loud knock on the woman’s bathroom door. Ashamed and anxious, she quickly jumps into the nearest stall and locks it. She hears the person walk into the bathroom, and she winces at the obvious smell of smoke.

“Detective Santiago?” she hears a deep voice say. She sighs and leans against the locked bathroom door stall.

“Yes?” she says, trying to keep a cough down.

“Why are you smoking in the woman’s bathroom?”

She pauses.

“I’m… not?”

“Lying to your captain?” he asks, disappointment and surprise in his tone. “I didn’t take you for a coward, Santiago.”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry!” she says, defeated, unlocking the stall door and coming out to face her captain, cigarette still in her hand. He extends his hand, and she places it in his hand and looks downwards.

“I understand that you’re nervous about Peralta,” he says. “But it is no reason for you to start slacking on your work.”

“I understand, sir.”

There’s a beat of silence between the two of them. 

“We’re getting to work on his case soon, though.”

Amy looks up at him expectantly.

“I just gave Rosa her undercover persona. She should be coming in contact with him any day now.” 

Amy beams at Captain Holt.

“Thank you, sir!” she says quickly, exiting the bathroom, trying to find Rosa as soon as possible.

“And no more smoking!” he calls out after her.

She smiles to herself, hope filling her chest as she thinks about Jake. She feels her phone vibrate as she walks towards Rosa’s desk, and pulls it out to check it.

_Theodore: You wanna go out tonight?_

_Theodore: I know your mind has been on Jake a lot recently._

Seeing his name written down feels like a stab to the heart.

_Theodore: Maybe we can go to dinner? Try to take your mind off of him? I know a place with some great Pilsners._

She knows that Teddy was just trying his best to cheer her up, but it didn’t matter. She didn’t want to take her mind off of Jake- how could she? He was out there, somewhere, all alone with only mafia members that he had just stabbed in the back. She was scared for his life. She couldn’t go to some meaningless dinner and pretend like she was okay.

She sighs, turns off her phone and puts it back into her pocket, trying her best to ignore the messages.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk if this is gonna show up on all the chapters i havent quite figured this out yet but this is about chapter four
> 
> hey sorry this was super short and its been a while since ive written anything and honestly idk if im gonna continue... i like this story but i have no idea where to go with it :/
> 
> i might update it but probably not im sorry 
> 
> i feel like this sounds super passive aggressive and if it does im really sorry

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading this!! I don't have a set plot yet, so if it's all over the place, my bad.
> 
> This is actually my first b99 fic so I hope it was good! There will probably be more chapters.


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